


could we pretend that we're in love?

by joshlerz



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Incest, M/M, Piss kink, Underage - Freeform, Watersports, joshler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:46:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7333630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshlerz/pseuds/joshlerz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one where josh makes tyler drink soda while they play mario kart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	could we pretend that we're in love?

Tyler thinks that he should really stop staying up so late. It's one thing to be up late studying and pouring over textbooks, but it's another thing entirely when all you're doing is sitting on your bed playing Super Smash Brothers for the sixth hour in a row. He's only a sophomore -- high school's important, but it's not that important just yet. His parents would probably kill him if they found him up this late, and the uncomfortable thought of his dad charging down the hallway and banging on his locked door is enough to make him lean over and flick the switch on the gaming console, tossing the controller and flopping back on his bed to stare at the ceiling, eyes gradually getting used to the darkness, shapes manifesting from the corners and creeping into the edges of his vision.

His thoughts turn to his brother, Josh. Josh is twenty and still lives at home -- his room's in the basement, and Tyler's surprised he doesn't hear the low thump of his speakers resonating through the vent under his window. Josh is out a lot, though; he has friends (a lot of them, which makes Tyler kind of feel like shit and kind of not), but it's a Sunday night, so he's really not that surprised that he's not out partying, stumbling through the door at five in the morning and slurring out "don't be a snitch, okay?"

Tyler rolls over and scrolls through his phone for a while, adjusting the brightness so he's not blinded, settling into his blankets and pillows and feeling sleep creep up on him, when the all too familiar chirp of a text message brings him back to reality

hey. u up

It's Josh, and Tyler replies back almost instantly:

yeah. are you?

Of course he is, Tyler thinks, burying his face in the pillow. He's so awkward he can't even text his brother right. His phone lights up again, this time with another question.

can I come chill in ur room? cold as shit down here 

Tyler responds with a yes, and within five minutes Josh is sitting on the edge of his bed, clad in a black tank top and the boxer shorts with drums on them that Tyler kind of likes. Is that a weird thought? It should be weird. This is his older brother, after all. But Tyler's been medicated since he was a kid, and he guesses having weird thoughts about his older brother isn't the weirdest thing that's crossed his mind. He's pretty sure that award goes to the plethora of imaginary friends he had murderous thoughts about in elementary school. 

Josh flops back on the bed, and Tyler's eyes scan over his left arm -- Josh's sleeve is so colorful, so bright; Tyler knows all his paychecks since he turned eighteen have gone to it, and it's mostly finished at this point, sky and earth and fire stretching across his bicep and finishing at the top of his shoulder with neon green foliage. Josh notices that he's looking, and flicks his eyes up to meet Tyler's, and Tyler feels the pink heat of blush creep up his neck and settle right around his forehead.

"What? You trying to analyze it like mom does?"

Tyler shakes his head, running his hand over his face, mumbling "'s pretty. That's all." Josh snorts and rolls over, closer to him, face pressing into Tyler's thigh. "You could analyze it, if you wanted. You're smart, and you probably wouldn't tell me how I'll look like an idiot when I'm sixty five with a neon collage on my arm."

Tyler snorts, and leans over the bed, finding the other wireless controller and handing it to Josh, who sits up straight and takes it eagerly. "Mario Kart," he says, smirking; "Smash Bros is for pussies."

They play for a good two hours before Tyler's shifting uncomfortably against the bed, bladder twinging and telling him in no uncertain terms to go pee. It isn't long before Josh notices. Tyler thinks that he's about to comment on him twitching, when Josh raises his eyebrows, pauses the game and points a finger at him. "Hey. I have an idea."

"What's that?"

Josh gets up from the bed, and there's the sound of the fridge opening down the hall, in the kitchen, and he comes back lugging a twelve pack of Mountain Dew Baja Blast (which Tyler really thinks is the only acceptable flavor to begin with), putting it on the desk chair and pulling it closer to the bed.

"Me and my friends have played this -- well, it's more of a drinking game, but that doesn't matter. Loser of each lap has to chug one of these babies. First one that has to piss loses."

Tyler looks a little confused, he's sure. "So... if you have to pee, you lose? Doesn't sound like that fun of a game to me."

Josh scoffs. "C'mon, man. I'd play it with beer with you if I could, but dad would definitely notice if I stole a twelve pack of his precious Coors Light." Tyler laughs at that, because it's true, and despite the slight protest from his lower stomach when he leans back on the bed, he shrugs loosely. "Fine. Game on."

Josh loses the first two races, and it's obvious that he's played this before, because he's no worse for wear after two sodas in the space of ten minutes. Tyler loses the third, and he chugs the mountain dew, feeling it run down his throat and settle in his belly with a bit of a shudder from how cold it is. Josh loses the next one, too, and Tyler just smirks. The game isn't that bad, and Josh kinda sucks at Mario Kart.

Josh only loses one more race, and then Tyler loses three in a row. The second and third sodas go down easy, but the fourth makes him feel like gagging, a soft burp passing his lips as he mutters "excuse me," focusing on picking his character for the next course.

About twenty minutes pass, and Tyler feels... full. That's the best word to describe it, anyway. His stomach aches slightly from the fifth soda he's drank in half an hour, and his bladder shifts uncomfortably every time he so much as changes positions on the bed. Josh definitely notices. He turns his head, scanning Tyler up and down with his eyes, and Josh suddenly notices that there's only a few sodas left in the cardboard container.

"Hey," and Tyler flicks doe brown eyes up to look at him. "I'm gonna go get some more. We gotta play until someone's gotta piss, remember?" Tyler just nods, a shaky okay coming from his mouth, because it's not often Josh willingly hangs out with him and Josh is pretty much the coolest person he knows.

Josh is gone for less than ten minutes, and Tyler presses experimentally on his lower belly, wincing at the sudden pressure on his bladder and how his entire belly feels sloshy and full of soda, water and whatever else he's drank since he retired to his room for the night. It's still manageable at this point, so he ignores it, but when Josh comes back with three two liters (protesting that he couldn't take another twelve pack, and these are the sodas he bought for his own personal stash), Tyler starts to get a little nervous.

Josh doesn't look scared in the slightest, and he plops on the edge of the bed, and the way Tyler bounces makes him scared he's going to pee himself just from the sudden change in position. He squeaks, adjusting his legs, and Josh leans over, squeezing his thigh with his hand, looking into Tyler's eyes and muttering "we can stop, if you want."

It feels like an invitation -- one that Tyler's not too sure how to take; but the answer flashing in his mind is yes, so he just shrugs. "I'm fine. We can stop if -you- have to pee, though." Josh raises his eyebrows and laughs, that laugh that shows his teeth and makes his eyes go all squinty, and Tyler feels a weird heat rise from his belly up into his chest. Josh just shrugs and grabs for the controller, sitting in thought for a moment before turning and saying "How about this? Loser has to drink from the two liter for the amount of time it took them to complete the final lap. It should only be a minute, at the most. And you can take it as sloooooow as you want." 

The way he drags out the word 'slow' makes Tyler twitch again, and he nods. "Fine by me."

The plan backfires.

Josh wins the entire cup, and Tyler's drank practically an entire two liter of Pepsi in less than ten minutes. He's bloated, and burps continually escape his mouth, his stomach hard to the touch. He can hear all the sugar and soda moving around when he does, and he's pretty sure if it was humanly possible, he'd hear all the piss in his bladder, too.

His bladder feels like it's about to explode.

Josh is looking at him again, this time with eyes that seem almost predatory, and he leans forward, running his hand over Tyler's thigh, back and forth, back and forth, his pale skin contrasting against Tyler's plaid pajama bottoms. 

A tiny whimper escapes Tyler's mouth, and Josh runs his hand closer to the inside of his thigh, before he finally snakes his way to the middle, palm pressing against Tyler's crotch, his cock half hard already as Josh palms him in small, circular motions, occasionally running up to press against his lower belly, which, after five minutes of almost torturous teasing, makes Tyler squirm away and try to stand up from the bed.

"Okay, Josh, you win -- I gotta pee, bad -- "

Josh pulls him back, against his chest, squeezing him, and it's a burning sensation in his belly, painful and hot, and he clenches himself in preparation for any drops of piss that might come out. Nothing does, and Josh sits him back on the bed, eyes glinting like a wildcat's while Tyler vaguely wonders in the back of his mind if this is what Josh looks like when he's with girls. That thought sends another wave of heat swirling through Tyler, up from his dick to the top of his head to the bottom of his toes, and before he knows it Josh has him pinned to the bed, one hand pressing on his shoulder while the other rubs circles into his swollen belly.

"Nice soda baby," he remarks, and Tyler squirms uncomfortably as Josh presses down slightly, moving lower and lower, edging close enough to his bladder that he jerks away, protesting "J-Josh, no, I told you, I have to pee -- "

"I know."

And it's the hot whisper in his ear, the breath against the lobe that sends him to half mast, and a moan escapes his throat almost instinctively as Josh continues to palm his cock.

"I know," he murmurs again, and this time it's accompanied with an "it's okay," and Tyler lets himself relax, legs spreading, but it's hard, he's hard, his bladder's full and he doesn't know how he's supposed to come when the threat of pissing himself looms dangerously on the horizon.

Josh is halfway through jerking him off, hand covered in spit and shoved down Tyler's pants, when the pressure gets unbearable, and he squeezes his eyes shut, muttering "joshjoshjoshpleaseireallyhavetopee -- "" and Josh kisses him, pressing their mouths together and it feels almost -natural,- as if they weren't brothers their entire lives and are suddenly long lost lovers who haven't seen each other in decades.

He presses it to the back of his mind, and the white heat coils and rises in his belly, but before he can peak, there's a flash of pain, and Josh is pressing down on his lower belly, kneading slowly with his fingers, and Tyler whimpers to the point that he sounds like a dog being kicked. "Josh -- Josh, please -- "

"It's okay, baby," Josh pants, and Tyler lets his eyes open just enough to see that his brother's fully erect, boxers tented, and Josh runs his finger over Tyler's cheek, soothingly, leaning in to kiss him again, free hand going right back to his bladder, this time his fingers digging in against his skin, making Tyler cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and Josh wraps his hand back around Tyler's cock, thumb sliding over the head and hand twisting up and down, back and forth, and all Tyler wants is Josh -- his mouth, his dick, his fingers, anything, anywhere, anytime he wants -- when there's a sudden feeling of relief, and then warmth, and there's piss flooding all over the bed, down his thighs and soaking his pants and pooling in a puddle between them, and Josh just keeps jerking, piss making his palm slick, obnoxious wet noises sounding from between Tyler's legs.

He can't even feel shame at this point, because he comes right after he pisses the bed like a toddler, cum sticking to his thighs and Josh's hand and he twitches when Josh pulls his hand out of his pants and looks at him, licking cum from his fingers, cum that's more watery than usual because it's mixed with urine and sweat. Tyler clamps his legs shut and covers his eyes, whining and shaking and -tears- fall down his cheeks, but he's not really sure they're from embarrassment.

Josh cleans him up, washes his sheets, doesn't even ask for anything in return, even though all Tyler wants to do is sink to his knees and let his brother fuck his open mouth. He slinks back to his room after he holds him for a while, Tyler's thighs shaking and the Febreze Josh sprayed doing nothing to mask the scent of piss that permeates around him. 

The next morning at breakfast, Tyler grabs his toast as it pops from the toaster, shoving it in his mouth on the way to the bus, and his phone beeps with a text.

;)

Tyler looks at the photo attachment, and it's a picture of a twelve pack of Mountain Dew. He types back his reply as he locks the door.

sure. tonight? but i get to make you come this time.

Josh doesn't reply, but leaves him on read.

Tyler just smirks.


End file.
